Imagination
by JenEvan
Summary: A drunken person's imagination.Or not.Experimental,with a bit of male/male elements, and an OC.


Imagination

_This was made eons ago, but was only published now. An inspiration after finishing 3 volumes of the Vampire Chronicles in a week with minimum sleep,2 whole days researching on Hayao Miyazaki's anime for assignment and a whole day of indulgence in TRC and X fanfics. Plus a few repeats of 'Soubi Kakei' and 'Nemureru Shiro' from ALI Project.Jz gotta love those song._

Disclaimer: GundamSEED/Destiny belong to their respective authors and companies,but my characters belong to me.

A Victorian mansion long abandoned. Its marble floors cracked, it windows sill-less. All the fine tapestries had since rotted away, leaving only their shadows of dust. The furniture, already eaten away by time and nature's elements, stood as phantoms in their places; the exact spot they were since autumn, 19th September 1887, A.D.

Silver boots padded across the non-existent carpet, slowly, silently. Slender fingers trailed the outline of a brass-frame armchair, around its intricate floral carvings. Jadeite green eyes lay upon a wooden structure; a grand piano before the elements got to it. Fingers traced themselves across the phantom keyboard; across ivory keys which were long gone; savouring the familiar, rich tunes of each ivory key when they hit the chords. A song, a duet, he wrote, especially for him. A sharing of mutual feelings, hidden emotions, in a language only they both could understand. Pale white arms encircled his waist, an icy, frozen kiss on his cheek.

_A dance, my love. Shall we?_

Across the shining marble floor they waltzed, in a ballroom decorated by the stars of the night sky. The music was gentle, sad; the violin, shrill and gut-wrenching; the cello, smooth and mellow; telling a poignant tale of love. The piano echoed tears that fell upon thin ice, on a very, very cold winter. Here, in a realm where time seemed to stop, when he met those mesmerizing eyes of pale wine-green; piercing cold ice melting upon the gaze of passionate flames of jadeite green. Snowflakes danced around them, floating, drifting, until they landed on the white marble floor.

He stopped. The music stopped. Waves lashed upon the snowy white beach, lapped his silver boots. There was only the song from the sea. No violin, no cello, no piercing wine-green eyes, no frozen kisses. Somehow, he was rather disappointed. If only that moment would last longer, if not eternally. But then again, what was he doing here?

Suddenly, he felt someone pulled him back.

"Why the fuck are you trying to drown yourself!"

"Don't die, Commander! We need you at the Gulnahan Ravine!"

Huh? Did he just try to…?

"Guys, we better get him back … he's sloshed… can't let him walk into the sea again..."

What? Walked into the sea? He was sure he didn't …

"And don't ever call him commander if you don't wanna annoy the Hell out of him."

He felt himself being led back to the 'barracks', some familiar voice saying that he needed more rest and they're leaving the Carpentaria Base at dawn. Turning back, he took one last glance at the ocean; white waves crashed onto dark boulders, on a plain, empty tropical beach.

"Um… Heine lost his FAITH badge…"

What FAITH badge…?

--

Slowly, he opened his eyes. It had started snowing for the rest of Europe and the Northern Hemisphere. Pure white snowflakes now dotted the grimy marble floor; filling into cracks, obscuring the rotting furniture; the unsightly phantoms. Crystalline flakes landed on his palm; fuzzy little stars on white marble; some shone on the surface of cold silver metal. He stared at the object in his hand. A silver badge shaped like a wing. Wine-green eyes reflected upon the smooth metallic surface.

"He is real…"

He took in a deep breath; savoring whatever that was left of that sweet, warm scent. A familiar scent he could never forget; a scent uniquely _his_.

Marble white fingers closed around the object, as a huge white owl, with the same wine-green eyes, perched on his shoulder. Only the creature had noticed the blood red tear glisten down his pale white cheek.

* * *

An experimental type on something I had not tried but had read in here. And that's my OC in the end paragraph.


End file.
